


[SIMILAR]

by molonara



Category: Prototype (Video Games), [PROTOTYPE]
Genre: Between P1 and P2, F/M, Gen, Porting this from my work on Fanfiction.net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molonara/pseuds/molonara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Mercer, codename: ZEUS, spends his days watching after Dana, who is in a coma. Then someone starts following him. Dr. Ragland finds out Dana might be infected. As Alex searches for a cure, he can't help wondering, who is codename: ERIS? Takes place between the finale of [P1] and the events that lead up to [P2].</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monster

What is a monster? Some, if not most people, would say that it is a creature that lurks under the bed, ready to drag unsuspecting kids under and devour them alive. Others may think it is a man, and only rarely a woman, born of sin, only to do wrong in this world, unable to receive or accept help from good hearts; a person who does truly evil things to innocent people with no reason at all.

The truth is, there are monsters everywhere, in every one of us. They lay dormant there, until the time is right for their awakening. And when that time comes, we become something else, we all think we have a reason for what we do, and to some extent those reasons are justified. But not everyone will agree, or even believe the reasons; all they hear is excuses for why or how it began. And so, the monsters have to live with the transformation.

For me, that moment of realization and acceptance came a long time ago, only the change was much more literal.

Who I was, and still am in a sense before that descent into chaos I had to endure, is still the only identity I hold sacred. Alex Mercer was renowned genetic scientist, who in a fit of delusional paranoia, created his end and the end of millions, he died; I died. 

But it was not the end, for soon I, Alex Mercer, the Blacklight Virus, ZEUS, whatever I am called, was born from that dying man and spawned into a world that showed no warmth or light for me. The mistakes of my previous life, my other half and counterpart, were doomed to haunt me forever. 

There are days where I wish I could have been a benefactor for the people of Manhattan, to apologize for all the wrongs done by the hands I bear. But that can never happen, for it is too late to help the dead and dying. So many things never done, so many possibilities wasted, so many mistakes.

Reflecting on the past, I knew there might have been hope if I had stepped in. But I cannot hide who or what I truly am inside. They would have all fled at the sight of me.

As the Blacklight Virus, I feel no humanity. My only instincts, to consume, destroy, and infect, have made me feel such a rush of power, that if I am not careful, I could get lost in the insanity of it all. Showing no clemency, for none was ever shown to me, I render all that opposes me to a stain of red on a nearby surface. My surrounding are ugly and dull to my eyes, just as the people were like ants, easily crushed under my heel.

But I am not completely gone, though I struggle to hold on to my grasp of what is right or wrong; for I am still Alex Mercer inside, though as Alex Mercer, I am just as merciless in my view of the world, and even though I have some humanly attachments left, those bonds are wearing thin.

This is all Blackwatch’s fault. No matter how much blame I put on myself, Blackwatch will always be the one reason for everything bad that has happened.

I don’t care how much supercilious hatred I show toward them. They deserve every last ounce of pain I will give them, and have given them! They kill their own kind, young and old, for the sake of a few feet of ground, or to take me down, a useless task. Ultimately, they think themselves superior to everyone else. It’s hard to think that they are a division of the American forces.

I don’t think it’s surprising what happened after I saved the city from being leveled by a nuclear warhead. Blackwatch’s finite hold over the Infection was expected; they had been too confident and proud. When the Infection seemed to deteriorate, the military, what was left of the civilians, Blackwatch, they all began to remiss in the thought that it was all over. Bloodtox levels began to dearth and that was when the Infection struck and struck hard, rearing it’s head up from a slumber and spewing the consequences on the fools. 

The Infection spread over the Red Line and into almost all of Manhattan. No one could escape the cloud of destruction, save for my company, Blackwatch, and me. The local government had become venal and was seized by the Blackwatch officials in a state of martial law. Gathering anyone who was uninfected, they created one big stronghold at the edge of the island in Battery Park. It has since begun to expand, just as the virus had.

Now the Infected run rampant through the streets of the big apple, tens of thousands of them, faces lost and misshapen. However, they plod along with no real purpose, no other drive then instinct. Elizabeth Greene had been the strategy and brain of the viral body, the one who was the source of the Infection, the queen of the Hive Mind. I ended her life painfully. 

For the longest time, my drive had been to discover my past. I learned Alex Mercer had a sister, a girlfriend, and an unappealing life; but sadly, that’s just it, I am not Alex Mercer truthfully, and that was the most painful thing to discover. I finally know everything, so what is my purpose now?

The answer to that is simple. My sister Dana, if I can even count her as that, was injured sometime in my quest for truth, and is now in a coma. Dr. Ragland, who had aided me several times, is taking care of her. I’m trusting the Doc with her life, for he is the only one I can trust.

So what can I do now?

Since I know the truth, I know there are no sides to choose. I am my own side. I fight the Infection and Blackwatch, basically anyone who gets in my way.

My name is Alex Mercer, was Alex Mercer, codename ZEUS.

I’m a monster.

I am the Virus.

And I can never leave this island until my work is done.

•••


	2. A Typical Monday

I hate Hunters with a burning passion.

Especially when there are about twenty of them, not including three Leader Hunters, trying to rip your guts out while a strike team helicopter is gunning for you. And this all happening at eight o’ clock in the morning. God, I hate Mondays as much as a normal person would, which is saying something. 

I made a quick dash, catch, and consume, grabbing onto the nearest Infected while dodging the clawing charge of one of the large fleshy beasts. Everywhere I looked, dead bodies were walking, small pick-me-ups when I was in need. They had all been civilians of a marvelous and popular city at one point, spending their lives in light of another day and future. But now the city of New York was in ruins and it’s inhabitants mangled into corpses, possibilities and happy tomorrows snuffed out like the candle of a birthday cake. But there is always a bright side. At least with no more civilians, there is no more traffic; meaning I didn’t have to worry about getting run over. Hollow vehicles were always prime projectiles, as light as Styrofoam given my immense strength.

My current situation had evolved from my willingness to destroy a building where the Redlight virus was being generated. It just so happened that Blackwatch was in the process, not that they were getting anywhere, of destroying the same Infected Hive, probably because it was near their oh so protective military base. I say it like that because I had infiltrated it quite a number of times unseen with no trouble; protected indeed. But in any case, now I was caught in a battle of man and beast, each selfishly wanting to acquire the same patch of grass. I tried to maintain my concentration on destroying the Hive, dodging attacks from enemies and grabbing nearby objects to throw at the infested structure, but the Hunters were fast and numerous. As I picked up a car to chuck at the annoying ‘copter, I was knocked off my feet from a fourth and unexpected Leader Hunter.

As the savage creatures closed in around me, hungering for a piece of the rare meat, I knew it was time to stop messing around. Getting surrounded by these things is the worst, and they could incapacitate me, leaving me either to their mercy or to that of Blackwatch, whose desire to dissect me was always apparent. They will never get me. Concentrating my biomass, I released a storm of tendrils, expanding from me in all directions like a solid firework. Time always seemed to slow down as I did this, allowing me to feel along all the tendrils as they shot through the Hunters like freshly organic spears of barbed wire, piercing meat and bone. Then I pulled them all back to me, gaining more energy from the carnage stuck to the appendages. No other time did I feel more alive then the surge of power I get from my devastating finishers. 

All the hunters fell dead with an anguished cry, except for one of the Lead Hunters, who was staggering in a daze, streams of thick Biomass liquid being jetted out of its neck, indicating a broken spinal column. I grinned at the sight of that easy prey and quickly climbed atop the brut. With a punch of iron, I broke it’s second back and consumed what I could from it. The thing was too big to absorb completely, but it was still a great amount of Biomass. What was left drooped limply to the ground in a crumpled pile along with the rest of the bodies. 

But just I was reveling in my kill, the Hive expelled more Hunters from the yellowish boils that grew on the sides. They roared defiantly and charged in to avenge their brethren. I groaned in impatience, wondering how I was going to kill this serpent when with each decapitation, more heads and teeth sprouted. I needed another approach.

Then the answer to the dilemma hit me, quite literally.

A guided missile struck me back in a blast of white, yellow, and red debris. The helicopter was shooting at me persistently, not learning that it was pointless. I didn’t think they would mind if I ‘borrowed’ that chopper, I would be doing Blackwatch’s job for them after all.

I generated my Whipfist and shot it at the helicopter. The thick chain of mass made contact with the landing gear, and I was pulled into the air toward it, just missing a raging Hunter’s pounce.

A smile formed on my bloodstained face as I flew through the air toward the hovering bird. I always loved grappling to helicopters, the wind blowing on face in general. The sense of flight is truly freeing. Some days I would wish I could evolve a set of wings, and just fly away from here, as unbound to the earth as the ravens that circle the infected water towers. Gliding was always too short of a thrill.

The rush was soon over as I reached the helicopter’s windshield. The look on the pilot’s face was priceless. Ripping off the door that separated in from out, I quickly dispatched the pilot and his passenger, and wiped what was left of them off the glass. I knew how to fly this Grey Goose perfectly, not from experience myself, but from someone else’s. 

With a couple of missiles and a bullet or two, the Hive caved in on itself with an explosion of fire and Infected Biomass. I watched the Infected branch out in all directions to find a new home. My job here was done, no need to linger. I headed back to Ragland’s in the chopper, soaring as high as it would take me. From this height, the entire island seemed to be becoming one giant organism. There were Hives everywhere, strange growth spreading from building to building, red and vine-like, creating a real urban jungle. A place I called home.

I wish this had never happened. None were disserving of this horror and madness, but the past cannot be changed.

Landing the chopper on the roof of Ragland’s morgue, I got out and took my post at the corner of the building. This was my little watch area, my spot. I had once told Ragland that I stood here to make sure that no Infected came near. But that was then. The Infection now knows to stay clear of this building at all costs, thanks to me. Lately, I just stand here to watch the world go by, wondering and waiting. For what? I don’t know, salvation maybe, death, the end of the world as we know it? That last one isn’t too farfetched given the state of things. Whatever the reason, I know there will be no end for me anytime soon. 

So here I stand… waiting….

•••


	3. Nameless Threat

A bird flew past me as the sun started to sink behind the skyscrapers, casting oblong shadows about. It was not a raven, but a dove, a beautiful white dove, such I creature rarely seen in this landscape. It was probably released from a pleasant celebration. Wanting to gaze upon the beauty a bit longer before it flew out of sight, I caught it in midair with my Whipfist and held it in my grappling claws close to me. I inspected it then, taking note of the fineness of the feathers, the curve of the talons, the innocence it possessed. It seemed scared yet strangely calm, its little eyes looking at me with curiosity and fear. It was so fortunate to be viewed as a bird of peace, so lucky to be born with such a title. People would not harm this creature given its status and fairness, and it would explore lands I will never get to know. It was free and without trouble. And I wasn’t. My grip tightened.

There was a sudden crack, a silenced squawk, and red blood spattered its little white body, now dead. In my surprised shock, it slipped from my claws and fell to the sidewalk below with a splat. Its eyes, once light with life now dull marbles, seemed to stare back up at me. It took me a while to register what had happened. I had killed it, but I couldn’t understand why. Why? I remained motionless in this pondering. Perhaps I was jealous of the little thing’s freedom, or maybe this was just a small bit of what my instincts taught. The viral part of me knew that this was what I could do, what I was meant to do, what I am, a soulless killer who carries a monstrous infection inside, almost as deadly as the monster who carries it. And I admit it to the world.

I deserve to burn in Hell when I die… if I die.

The sharp crackle of radio static and chatter sounded from the cockpit of the helicopter I had hijacked, causing me to turn my attention from the dove’s lifeless body stories below. Interested on what could be being broadcasted, I walked over to the parked metal bird, and leaned against the side, listening.

**“Red Crown, this is Black Hawk. We have possible ZEUS activity in Sector Seventeen, heading to intercept and investigate.”**

Quickly I looked around for any approaching artillery, fearing that I might have been spotted. But no Gunships or Tanks were in sight. Confused, I started scanning out the memories of high-ranking officers I had consumed for an interpretative numbered map of the area, and realized I was nowhere near Sector Seventeen. Curious as to why they thought I was on the opposite side of the island, I got in the chopper to listen in with more attention.

**“This is Black Hawk, we have visual on the target, attempting to confirm positive id… wait… it is not ZEUS, repeat it is not ZEUS.”**

**_“This is Red Crown, what is your situation? Over.”_ **

**“This is Black Hawk, we appear to have an unknown hostile in Sector Seventeen, possibly infected. Permission to engage.”**

**“ _This is Red Crown, complete scan to identify target. Over.”_**

**“Verifying, proceeding to scan, over…. We seem to have got its attention, it seems to be… BBZZZZZTTTT… Send in a strike team! Send…. ZZZZZRRRRR…. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, WE ARE GOING…”**    

As I heard the Black Hawk’s transmission come to an end, I could see a faint explosion in the distance where it had crashed. The transmitter got his dying wish, as a Strike Team, consisting of two helicopters and a few UAVs, was radioed in only moments later. I could see them now, heading toward the scene of the crime.

**_“Exploration Team Delta Six, this is Red Crown, be prepared for an in-the-dark encounter. Be quick in your recognizance and retrieve the data from downed Black Hawk as soon as possible.”_ **

I was surprised and a bit curious at this situation. What or who could Blackwatch have mistaken as me? From the sounds of it, whoever or whatever it was had enough strength to take down a helicopter from the air, and in record time no less. I thought this deserved some insight, as not knowing something of the sort would be truly foolish. 

Getting in the stolen helicopter, I followed the Strike Team that was making its way to Sector Seventeen. All the way, I listened to the conversation between the Delta Six pilots by using some tricks I had learned to tap other helicopter’s communications. They seemed generally nervous.

**“Do you know what we are dealing with here?”** I heard one say.

**“All I know is that it isn’t ZEUS,”** another responded, **“Command’s thinking it’s a new threat we may be dealing with. Heard it was sighted earlier today, but they weren’t able to get any data, or confirm if it was a threat or not. Looks like it is now."**

**“You think they’ll codename it?”**

**“Probably, it’s only a matter of time now, right?”**

A third pilot from the corresponding Gunship piped in, **“I actually heard they were going to get rid of most of the codenames. At least for Runners anyway.”**

**“HEY!”** The fourth pilot entered into the chat, **“This isn’t a slumber party men! Keep your eyes out for the hostile, or I’ll send you to protect some Gentek lab rats.”** This guy sounded like the commander of the squadron.

**“Oh no,”** one of them responded sarcastically, **“Anything but that.”**

**“Shut the fuck up Simons!”**

Even though this was entertaining as hell, I decided not to listen anymore, shut off the radio, and focused on the situation. I flew the helicopter, as quietly and stealthily as I could, which was easy because it was so dark, but I still needed not to be noticed. In the moment of quiet, my mind reeled with questions. What could this ‘new threat’ be? A new Infected, a Runner, maybe a rogue Super Soldier? Possibly, but if they mistook it for me…

Suddenly, I was shaken from my troubled thoughts as the chopper shook as if it had been hit by something, possibly another bird. However, when I looked through the glass, I realized that what I saw was what I had been looking for.

•••


	4. It Has Yellow Cat Eyes

All I could see were its eyes, its yellow cat-like eyes. In the darkness of the night, they seemed to stand out, glowing as if they emitted their own light, like headlights. And I was totally paralyzed, transfixed by them. The sound of the helicopter seemed to fade away, as well as all the thoughts from my mind. Only the hypnotic split spheres concerned me now. They seemed to be searching my face, darting around in a quick manner, as if it were looking for something. Then the slits widened, in what I guess was surprise. I’m not sure, but it was almost as if the owner of the strange spellbinding cat eyes recognized me, which made me even more worried. Did it know who I was? But then, just as quick as they had appeared, the optics vanished, as if it had never been.

The world came back slowly like a steady beat, so it took a while for me to comprehend what had just happened. The helicopter was hovering stationary; no damage seemed to be done. The propellers were making that signature rhythmic beat that was almost as fast as my heart was or would have been beating. Can’t tell if I have a heart anymore. 

What was that? Was it real? The idea that it was something my mind had created, a sign I was truly starting to lose it, troubled me to no end. I have a fear of losing my head. But when I switched to my Thermal Vision, I was relieved yet disturbed to find that the imprints of two hands, warm and fading, were still visible on the windshield’s bulletproof glass. I reached out to compare them to mine, and found them to be smaller in size.

This proved that whatever it was had been real and that I was still sane, for the moment at least, but this information did nothing to calm my nerves. And whatever it was hadn’t attacked me, so either it was scared of me, or it didn’t find me to be an enemy. But still, something with eyes like that…

Suddenly, an explosion from up ahead caught my undivided attention, as one of the Strike Helicopters, which were looking for what I now didn’t really want to find, suddenly went down, its tail blade had apparently been ripped off. The UAVs, also known as Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, which were designed to scan for Infected (mainly me), were buzzing around, but not beeping red, their little eyes remaining green, indicating they sensed nothing in their vicinity. I was a pretty good ways away, but I still was mindful to keep my distance, not wanting to set off the alarms. If this… _thing_ was still nearby, it wasn’t infected, or maybe it was something new, a different strand of the virus that may have surfaced and wasn’t detectable by the infection detectors. There were so many different ideas on what was transpiring that they bounced around in my head with such velocity that I had to just stop thinking altogether and concentrate on getting facts.

I turned the radio back on to hear what the remaining Strike Team had to say. 

**“DID YOU SEE IT?!”** one of them was shouting over and over. Man, they were spooked.

**“Yeah, I saw it, or should I say, I saw HER,”** the other said, somewhat calm but it was a mutual calmness hiding the emotion of fear, **“It looked like a girl or women… but not human. Never seen anything like it.”**

**“So it was a female Runner?”**

**“I’m not sure, but whatever it is, get ready to engage when you see it."** ****

So, it was female. This made me even more tense. I remembered what I had learned about female Carriers of the virus, how it changed them, made the look inhuman at times. The sudden image of Greene came into my head, when I finally confronted her in that god awful monstrously grotesque form that would give me nightmares if I slept. What if this was another Elizabeth Greene? The idea of a second coming of that psycho who had called herself my ‘mother’, as well as the reign of terror she had set forth, flooded my head. No, I can’t let that happen again. But I must also consider that I am wrong. I made a quick mental note to consume and get the memories of the one or ones who saw her… or it, whatever it was.

The pilots started to shout though the radio again as the Infection Detectors plummeted to the city bellow. It was almost as if they malfunctioned or lost power, but it was too dark to see. The sky over Manhattan was majorly polluted so the moon and stars couldn’t shine their light on the dark infected city. It was impossible to see exactly what was ten feet away in all the smog.

Meanwhile, the pilots were freaking out, and firing blindly into the darkness, hitting me briefly but no real harm done.

**“It’s on us! It’s on us!”**

**“Shake it off! God Damn it Watterson, shake it… oh god, THERE IT….”**

**“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-!”**

A piecing screech or scream of some kind burst from the radio. I had covered my ears, it was so loud I could feel the sound, and it hurt! Not even Greene’s roar was this powerful. The radio couldn’t take it either because it promptly exploded in a shower of sparks. I felt like I had almost gone deaf, my ears were ringing; it sounded like a courses of bells going off in a church with the worst acoustics ever. Then I saw the strangest sight I had ever seen in my entire existence, strange even for me.

The Strike Team helicopter suddenly stopped, froze, the propeller not moving, yet it didn’t fall. Then it and the air around it rippled, almost like how my Biomass rippled when I changed my shape, but more like ripples on water. There was no Biomass, no tendrils or red or yellow or black or even the rare green, which I had only encountered once, but a faint glow of sky blue, an almost otherworldly light. I couldn’t hear the high-pitched sound I just heard through the radio, which I was sure I could have heard loudly through glass. I could hear the helicopter I occupied, not as loud as my ears would handle at the moment, but not the loud screech. The Strike Chopper continued to ripple, then in a display I had never seen, it shattered in a burst of light. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It shattered like glass, breaking up into pieces, which got smaller and smaller until they turned to dust and disappeared, as if it had evaporated. I was stunned, and started to get the idea to get the Hell out of there, until I noticed…

… the helicopter might have disappeared, but the pilots hadn’t.

•••


	5. The Memory of Simons Watterson

The two strike team pilots fell through the air, tumbling toward the city below, not even bothering to open their parachutes. Didn’t they care about their lives?! I did. I needed at least one of those pilots alive. I needed their memories to find out whom or what those eyes belonged to, and I can’t absorb the memories of dead people! Opening the side door of the cockpit, a violent gust of cold air hit my face. I was pretty high up, and maybe too far away to glide over and catch them. Thinking fast, I summoned my Whipfist and let it fly toward the falling pilots. The extending arm kept reeling and reeling out, till I was almost at the limit it could go. At first, I though that I was out of range and that I would lose my objective, which sometimes, if not always, happens, but right now I didn’t want to make a slip up. Luckily, I was able to catch one, and as I reeled the poor bastard in, I watched as the other fell into the darkness of the streets below, out of sight among the moving mass of Infected, which quickly began swarming at the area the body disappeared.

Jumping from the helicopter, for which I had no more use, I glided to a nearby building with my victim in hand. When I reached the building that I believed to be an old pharmaceutical, I watched as my helicopter fell and exploded in a blazing inferno. I couldn’t help but get a small smirk out of it; I do have a thing for explosions. I wondered if I had made a mistake in abandoning it, but I reminded myself that I could just snag another one later. I then focused on my catch. For some reason, he wasn’t struggling as most of my captured prey normally would. He wasn’t even moving, and this worried me. What if he was dead? Checking his vitals, I deduced he was still alive, but in a waking coma or shock… or maybe a trance. I don’t know what had happened to him, but this Blackwatch operative was totally out of it and gave no response, not even when I broke his arm to see if that would make him react.

As his arm’s bone broke and flesh ripped and blood spilled from the torn skin onto my jacket and hoodie, tendrils slithered out of my shoulders to lap up the life-giving liquid, wanting to absorb him as soon as the life of this man was extinguished. I quickly broke his neck in a sickening snap, completing the deed that some part of me longed for. The fleshy vines gladly converted his mass into mine, breaking down every tissue and bone into digestible material, and as I absorbed the last of the dead body into my biomass, felt a little more powerful, stronger, and awake. No regret was felt, not for a Blackwatch.

Then the memories came in a rushing typhoon of blinding light and shrieking images.

I normally don’t feel pain, ever, which is one of the many traits that makes me invincible. When bullets hit me, or Hunters claw me, I feel a pressure or a slight pinprick sensation, but no real absolute pain. It hadn’t always been like that, only after the Nuke Incident, when I was rebuilt from scratch from pure living mass. They do say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. And yet, when it came to the memories of those I consume, those I collect, I feel blinding pain. It is so unbearable; I’m almost sure it would kill a normal person, something I’m thankful and unthankful I’m not anymore, nor ever was. The pain will only come when I am reminded of something in Alex Mercer’s past, or when chose to watch the memories of another at the moment of consumption, and I can skip it if I want, choose not to look at the memories right away so they can dwell in my subconscious a bit and become less harmful. 

But since I wanted the information from these specific memories, I let the pain come, welcoming it like an old friend, like the last bit of humanity that I could feel.

The memory of the pilot, whose name was Simons Watterson, started off where I had turned off the radio. It mostly consisted of him and the other pilot talking, very boring, so I skimmed forward a bit, being sure not to tread into his personal life. Then it got interesting. As the pilot had looked out the cockpit window, he was just in time to see it. On the tail of the neighboring helicopter, there it was, gripping upside-down to the rotor. It looked so surreal, almost like a gargoyle. Human-like in shape, the dark silhouetted being had animalistic features, and other characteristics that weren’t recognizable to me; it was too dark to get a clear look. However, the figure was clearly feminine because of the body structure. I could see that now.

This creature had a strength unfitting to its size, for it promptly ripped off the tail of the chopper, and flew off in a blur. The rest of the memory was of that loud noise I had heard, and then nothing, as if the rest had been erased.

As I came out of the memory, feeling a little woozy and lightheaded, I realized that I was close to an Infected Watertower, a little too close for my liking; I could hear the Hunter inside starting to awaken. I quickly moved away to a safe distance before looking to the south, the direction of the Blackwatch Base, Red Crown. I could see its faint glow in the dark of the night. Without hesitation, I started to dash in its direction. I figured that whatever it was that was skulking around out here had to be found, and if Blackwatch considered it a major threat, that made it a number one priority to find out more about it. They must know something. And I’m going to find out what it is.

•••


End file.
